


in and over charge

by squidmemesinc



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Fluff, Other, alcohol cw, maybe also angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-28
Updated: 2017-07-28
Packaged: 2018-12-07 23:40:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11634363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/squidmemesinc/pseuds/squidmemesinc
Summary: “Rodimus, while I’m sure you’re aware I’m going to make a report of this, I don’t think citing you right now would be very effective given your current state. It might be more prudent for you to recharge, but in a more appropriate place than your office.”





	in and over charge

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this while half asleep. I was thinking this is after Drift left although I was way too lazy to give any indication that that might be the case other than here. Lol. Peace.

Ultra Magnus waits an extensively polite amount of time after knocking before he announces to Rodimus that he’s coming in anyway with important business to discuss, only to find the Captain with his helm planted on the desk and one hand gripping a knife which has been wedged into it.

Magnus assumes he’s interrupted one of Rodimus’ tantrums, which is not something he’s typically keen to do as it tends to involve moodiness leading to rule-breaking and copious amounts of frustration. But this alone doesn’t spark his desire to leave; rather, it’s his sheepishness that he’d presumed it appropriate for him to enter when clearly Rodimus has already heard the news that Tailgate has been encouraging Rewind to distribute unsanctioned media to other crewmembers and Whirl projected it in one of the main rec rooms, and is exhibiting his frustrations over the perfunctory damage that ensued due to various weapons misfiring in his uniquely Rodimus way. “Er, excuse me, I’ll just leave you then—”

But something is off. Rodimus gives absolutely no indication that he’s noticed Ultra Magnus’ presence in his office, or even that he’s online at all. He’s solid as stone in that fixed position, making absolutely none of his normal movements like rolling his crest about on the damaged piece of furniture, pounding it with his free fist, or muttering to himself. Magnus notices peeking out from behind his excessively kibbled helm a bottle, which appears to have the distinct glow of engex and a sticker hastily slapped on it that looks as if it says “Swerve’s.”

Magnus’ frown sets deeply into his face. He moves over to stand beside the desk, tucking the datapad bearing the details of the crewmembers’ latest infraction under his arm and rebooting his vocalizer loudly. Rodimus makes no movement. Magnus ponders his next move, and decides it is to investigate the bottle of engex. He picks it up and examines it, realizing he hardly knows anything about the stuff, other than it smells foul and the bottle is essentially empty, which doesn’t seem like a good sign. He has a brief flare of concern and wonders if he should contact Ratchet, but would like a bit of peace of mind in the meantime.

He places a hand on Rodimus’ back beneath his spoiler and jostles the smaller mech gently. “Rodimus?”

Rodimus leaps online with a loud hum, wrenching the knife out of the desk and pointing it at Ultra Magnus as he throws himself sloppily back against his chair, nearly falling out of it in the process. “Whazzit?”

Magnus had thrown his hands up defensively as his captain drew the weapon, but he allows Rodimus’ unfocused optics to center on him a little better and his elbow to sag before he gingerly takes the knife from him and sets it on the far edge of the table. “Rodimus, are you drunk?”

Rodimus grins sloppily. “You sound so scandalized. That’s not even the hard stuff. I heard about what happened with _you_ on our last shore leave.” He tries to look smug but the effect is somewhat ruined by the fact that he’s swaying.

“Rodimus, while I’m sure you’re aware I’m going to make a report of this, I don’t think citing you right now would be very effective given your current state. It might be more prudent for you to recharge, but in a more appropriate place than your office.”

Rodimus nods throughout this spiel, hardly looking as if he’s truly paying attention, but eventually tries to heave himself to his feet. Even on his second try, he is only halfway successful; he manages to stand for about a second before he falls forward against Ultra Magnus, who quickly reacts and grabs him. “I’m calling Ratchet,” Magnus says, steadying Rodimus against himself with one hand while preparing to patch through to his comm with the other.

“Don’t bother him with this, I’m fine. Not in any danger. I just overdid it a little. Haven’t done this in a while.” Rodimus is leaning into Magnus’ side, curling his arms around him to keep from slumping to the floor. “Maybe you should carry me,” he says after a moment where he seems to nearly slip into recharge again, only to jerk himself out of it.

Rodimus starts to slide off him and Magnus reaches an arm out to catch him before he can hit the floor. He quickly decides he agrees that Rodimus’ suggestion would indeed be the best course of action, and perhaps the only one, if he weren’t going to call in someone else to do the same thing. He scoops his other arm under Rodimus’ legs, easily correcting his balance for the awkward way Rodimus falls into his arms and away from the grounding platform of the ship. But he settles quickly, hooking his arms around the larger bot’s neck and curling into his shoulder. He’s very warm, and his fans are burning off a soft, slow charge from the engex so that little wafts of air brush against his arms. Magnus exits the office down and goes towards Rodimus’ quarters.

“Mags,” Rodimus slurs, apparently once again having escaped the throes of imminent, desired recharge.

He doesn’t follow up this address immediately, and Ultra Magnus feels motivated to keep him talking. He’s pinged Ratchet despite what Rodimus said. Clearly his opinion is invalidated by his current state. “Yes?” He stands on the pressure lock in front of Rodimus’ door and waits for it to open.

Rodimus sucks in a deep vent, unfurling slightly from the crook of Magnus’ shoulder, smiling again at him. “Nothing. Thanks.” He leans forward slightly and kisses him on the cheek. It’s such a soft movement that Magnus is hardly sure if it was intentional or accidental, and he freezes up for just a moment before remembering Rodimus is completely and totally intoxicated and likely won’t remember most of this after he gets some medical attention and some rest. He sets him down on his berth and lingers near the edge of it, meaning to move away, but wanting to wait until Ratchet arrives to make his departure. In his hesitation, Rodimus reaches over and grips his fingers gently, though his optics are already offline. “You’re in charge,” Rodimus murmurs hazily. Magnus curls his fingers tighter around the other bot’s, saying nothing.

For a few cycles, nothing changes, and Magnus only realizes Rodimus is offline again when the door opens for Ratchet. He quickly moves his hand away.

“I’ll leave you to him, then,” Magnus says a bit stiffly, moving back towards the door past the doctor.

“Magnus,” Ratchet says quietly, causing the other mech to turn. He’s already sat on the berth next to Rodimus, and though his optics have a harsh glint to them, the rest of his expression is unreadable. “Give him a break.”

Magnus senses there’s a lot of things being left unsaid there that he doesn’t care to sort through. So he exits the room saying nothing more than, “I’ll be expecting a full report from you on his status later.”


End file.
